All the King's Men
by Caidreabh
Summary: When the team gets involved in a case concerning the kidnapping of a young girl, they reveal a family's darkest secret, and Sara is forced to reveal a dark secret of her own.
1. Child's Play

Title: All the King's Men  
  
Author: Laura/Caidreabh  
  
Category: Casefile, Grissom/Sara UST/RST  
  
Rating: R for some tough subjects.  
  
Summary: When a little girl is kidnapped, the team uncovers a family's deepest secret, and Sara is forced to tell her own.   
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or any of it's characters. I just have some fun with them now and again.  
  
Author's notes: I started this as a spec script, but I'm away from home and I left my draft 3,000 miles away. So I started it again as a prose fic. There will probably be another incarnation of this story in teleplay format at some point in the future. For right now, it's a WIP.   
Quote that goes well with this story:   
"Careful the things you say,   
Children will listen.   
Careful the things you do,   
Children will see, and learn."   
--Children Will Listen from Into the Woods   
  
All the King's Men  
  
The laughter of the children could be heard from down the street during recess at the Meadowview Day School. From the sound alone, one would imagine happy preschoolers clambering over monkey bars an on jungle gyms. The poignant truth was that they did so slowly an laboriously, with permanent braces guarding their fragile bones and teacher's aides watching their every move. These children were too young to understand the limitations on their body-- yet here at this school were children with cerebal palsy, autism, and down's syndrome.  
But today, while children played in the sand and played tag on the field, the aides were preoccupied with their own game of hide-and-seek. One of the most beloved children at the school, Annie, was missing. They had assumed at first that she had just wandered off, but only a few minutes of searching were spent before a rip in the chain-link fence surrounding the property was discovered.  
The two aides working that day, Morgan and Christine, filed a missing-person's report at five o'clock that day. They waited nervously as the police arrived and began to block off the crime scene.  
The Las Vegas night-shift forensic unit waited in the parking lot after having been called to an all-hands case. Shivering in the slightly cold night air, they listened to the briefing while waiting impatiently to get to their work.  
"So who's our missing person?" Warrick enquired.  
"A five year old girl, name's Annie." He paused a moment and continued uncomfortably. "She's been deaf since birth. Has Down's Syndrome, to top it off."  
At this, Sara glanced worriedly at Grissom, who gritted his teeth and gestured to his team to follow him into the school.  
Inside, the two college-age girls sat, visibly nervous. Behind them, a middle-aged woman paced across the primary-colored rug, distraught.  
"He broke in near the back side of the field," one of the girls began, as the team filed in, before they could ask any questions.  
"He?" Grissom asked.  
"Well... I just assumed he was male... I have no real idea," the girl stammered in response.  
"You are-- Morgan?" Grissom guessed, looking at the papers he was holding on the clipboard in his hand.  
"No, I'm Christine. Call me Chris, though. This is Morgan." She gestured to the girl beside her, who nodded.  
"Chris, can you show me where you think the break in occurred?" Grissom asked. She got up and walked to the door.  
"I'll come and help," Sara offered, grabbing the field kit.  
"Good," Grissom said. "Warrick and Nick, you cover the playground where Annie was last seen. Catherine, help Brass with the witnesses."  
"Right." Catherine nodded.  
Grissom could see the place where the fence had been cut through from several yards away. It traveled around the entire perimeter of the school, which bordered streets on two sides, a residential house on one side, and a rather dirty alleyway in the back. It was on the street near the alley that the perpetrator had entered.  
Chris hung back from the fence once they reached the area. The wire had curled over and dug itself into the ground, tearing up the sod. The exposed earth had turned to mud due to the uncharacteristic rainstorm earlier that day.  
Sara set the field kit down a few feet away, then approached carefully and kneeled down by the mud, knotting her forehead as she began to concentrate on the scene before her. "Footprints," she said, tracing them with her finger a few inches above them in the air. "I'm guessing a male, size 10 shoe."  
"Only traveling in one direction," Grissom pointed out.  
"Yeah. My guess, climbed over the first time, had to cut the fence to get the girl out."  
As she spoke, Grissom walked several yards down the fence and began to climb over it. To do so, he had to tightly lodge his fingers within the links of the fence. As he ascended, his jacket caught on a rough end of a protruding wire. He unsnagged it before finishing his climb by resting both palms of his hands on the top bar of the chainlink fence.  
Watching as he did this, Sara understood.  
"I'll dust up and down the fence, look for partials. And handprints on the top rung. That as well as search for any stray fibers our perp might have left behind."  
Grissom nodded. "Good. Get those footprints in the mud, as well."  
Still on the opposite side of the fence, Grissom walked down the road back towards where Sara was standing. She had already started her printing, and she smiled at him through the fence. Grissom kept walking, focused on the road beneath him. He stopped abruptly a few feet past the tear in the fence. "A car was here," he remarked, as he gestured toward a faint outline on the road's surface. "This area of the road isn't as dark. Less rain fell on it." He took out a tape measure and began to take down the dimensions of the lighter area, then began his search for prints on the fence.  
The two worked in silence for the better part of an hour before sealing up the last of the evidence and walking back to the main building of the preschool. Nick and Warrick had completed processing the playground and were now scouring the building itself. Catherine stood by the filed kit, organizing the evidence that the two had collected. Brass stood, watching, near the two younger witnesses, who were whispering nervously in low tones. The looks on their faces betrayed their fear, both for the missing child and of the official-looking people scouring the territory. The girl's mother continued to pace, her face betraying the effort it took to process what was happening.  
Sara walked over towards Catherine and placed the evidence gathered near the fence with the evidence taken from the playground. After a quick word with Nick and Warrick, Grissom decided that they had completed their initial evidence collection. As the rest of the team finished packing up, Catherine walked over to and shook hands with the two young women.  
"Thank you," she said. We'll be in touch with you if we need your help again. And if we have any further information regarding Annie. I understand you both were close to her." The two girls nodded in appreciation, but only Chris could say thank you in return.  
Catherine attempted to speak with the girl's mother once more, but she was met with hostility.  
The evidence was sent to be processed the moment they returned from the scene. Without anything else to do, the team sat in the layout room as Grissom went over the background they had to the case.  
"The missing child, Annie Peseo, is five years old, average size for a person her age, and has brown hair and blue eyes. She lives with her mother, Sophia Peseo, 42. Her father, Caesar, 27, moved out last month."  
"Cradle snatcher," Catherine remarked.  
Grissom gave her a warning glance as he continue. "Annie's mother has already been questioned-- she was at the school when we were processing the scene. Her father, however, has not been located. The only other people in direct contact with our victim were the aides at her preschool, who we have also talked to already. She was last seen twelve hours ago at one in the afternoon, giving us a window of approximately twelve hours to find this girl."  
As he handed around the paperwork concerning the case, Grissom's beeper sounded.  
"Trace has our fibers back from processing. Catherine, would you go get the results? Nick and Warrick, process the partials Sara and I collected. And Sara, can you go see if Greg has done our DNA samples yet?"  
The team went to their individual tasks, while Grissom went to seek out Brass. He found the homicide detective in his office, wearing a very tense look on his face.  
"Have you contacted the father yet?" Grissom asked as he entered the office and pulled out a chair on which to sit.  
"No, not yet. We have his last known address-- an apartment off the strip-- but it looks abandoned and empty-- like someone left on vacation and just never came back. That, of course, is making me wonder if this was a parental kidnapping. But according to the mother, he left because he wanted no part in Annie's life."  
"I'd like to talk to the mother. Is she still here?"  
"She's waiting outside for any news regarding her daughter. She's calmed down a bit, but she's still distraught."  
Fifteen minutes later, Grissom found himself seated on the opposite side of the desk in the interrogation room from a puffy-eyed, middle aged woman. Brass was standing several feet behind him. The woman looked at him hopefully.  
"Have you found my daughter yet?"  
"No." Grissom shocked himself by the harshness of his own voice. "No. But we're still looking. For missing persons cases, the first twenty four hours are key. Your daughter was reported missing a little over twelve hours ago. There's still plenty of hope."  
His words had done nothing to help relieve the woman's fears, but Grissom decided to hazard a few questions anyway.  
"Sophia-- you can help us find your daughter. You need to tell us all you can."  
She stared at Grissom, eventually responding. "What do you need to know?"  
"When was the last time you saw your daughter?"  
She cleared her throat. "Yesterday, when I dropped her off at preschool. She din't want to get out of the car,she wanted to stay with me. She had--"  
She paused for a moment to rub a tear into her cheek. "She had this book, a book of nursery rhymes. And she loved to look at the pictures. She was holding it in her lap open to a page-- it was Humpty Dumpty. And she kept reciting it over and over, pretending she was reading. She's finally learning to speak, and to read lips-- she's... she's deaf, you know."  
Grissom nodded with a look of understanding. "Yes, I know."  
Here Sophia gave a half-smile, at both the memory of her daughter and the understanding of a stranger. She continued. "But it was just the last two lines. And she'd get me to say it with her. I'd go, real slowly so she can read it, 'All the king's horses an all the king's men...' And then she'd say 'Couldn't put Humpty together again!' Just like that. Real excited, in that high-pitched funny voice of hers."  
Grissom nodded once more. He opened his mouth, about to ask another question,when he heard the door open and Sara's footsteps behind him. He turned around, and Sara handed him a computer printout. "Greg processed the DNA samples. He compared them to the DNA of Annie that we got off a hair found on some of her clothing. Over half the markers match-- it belongs to one of her parents. We're guessing it's the fahter's, but a sample of your DNA, Mrs. Peseo, will tell us for sure."  
Grissom shifted in his chair, taking in the information. "Mrs. Peseo, do you have any idea why your husband would do something like this?"  
She suddenly seemed panicked, the fear and worry for her daughter now replaced with a new type of fear altogether. "No!" she exclaimed. "I have no idea! Leave me alone! Stop asking me questions-- No! STOP!" 


	2. Relations and Reactions

Okay, here's part two. I don't like the last scene that much, so please leave a comment and tell me what you think. The third part will be up soon- I think I'm going to make it shorter than either of the first parts. Hope everyone likes this.  
  
---  
  
"She's hiding something," Sara remarked as she walked down the hallway in step with her supervisor. "Which is unique for a missing-persons case. Usually, the mother has no reason for suspicion whatsoever."  
  
"I have the feeling this isn't just a missing-persons case." Grissom said as he pushed open the door to the layout room, where Catherine, Nick, and Warrick were already waiting.  
  
"Trace found us a few fibers, nothing out of the ordinary," Catherine informed the team as the remaining members filed into the room. "What caught my attention was a course, uneven strand, deep purple."  
  
Grissom looked at Nick and Warrick. Nick shrugged his shoulders, resignedly. "No luck on the prints," he said. "All came back unidentified."  
  
Grissom nodded and, walking towards the table, lightly tossed a folder towards them. He sat down, and Sara followed suit.  
  
"Greg got our DNA processed. Our mother isn't cooperating with a DNA sample, but we're guessing that what we collected at the scene is paternal."  
  
"There's plenty of motive," Sara added. "The parents recently separated-he could be using Annie as a way to get revenge on his wife."  
  
"Or he could be protecting his daughter," Catherine said, raising an eyebrow. "I could hear Mrs. Peseo's tantrum all the way over here."  
  
Sara looked at Catherine, contemplating the other woman's suggestion. Before she could respond, Brass opened the door.  
  
"I got some background on our missing father. He's gotten in a few run-ins with the law before, mostly as a kid, minor stuff like DUI's and unarmed break-ins. He got his name legally changed when he was twenty-four. Not sure the reasoning for that, but he was adopted after being in foster homes the first few years of his life."  
  
"Could be mentally instable, then. People react to rough childhoods like his differently. But based on his pattern of aggression, that's a possibility," Grissom mused.  
  
"I still can't get a location on this guy. But I do have his last known address," Brass continued.  
  
"Catherine, Warrick, will you pay Mr. Peseo a visit?" Grissom directed. "Nicky, Sara? We're going to see is Mrs. Peseo is home. I have a feeling that there's more to this story than she's telling us."  
  
The three CSI's walked out the the parking lot, where Grissom's naby blue Tahoe was waiting. Walking more quickly than usual, feeling the pressure of the 24-hour window they were given, none of them noticed the figure coming towards them until Sara had almost knocked her over.  
  
"I'm so sorry!" the figure blurted, with a tone of genuine apology as well as an edge of genuine fear.  
  
Grissom recognized the voice instantly. He may not have been good with people, but he could vividly remember sounds. "Chris, isn't it?" " Yeah. How'd." she squinted, recognizing the three faces, which were dimly illuminated by the building's lights behind them. "Oh, you're the CSI's on Annie's case, right?"  
  
Grissom nodded.  
  
Sara stood, unresponsive, though she smiled to herself at the difference on the two men's faces-Grissom's facial expression was curious, while Nick was looking appreciatively at the newcomer.  
  
The other girl's features seemed to soften, and she instantly felt more comfortable. "Mr. Grissom," she said, "I have some information that might be helpful to you. Mind if I have a word?"  
  
"No, of course not. Nick, do you mind heading to the vic's house alone? We'll me you there in a half hour or so."  
  
"Not at all," he replied, though his faced betrayed his disappointment.  
  
"Do you want." Sara began, but Grissom caught her by her shoulder and cut her off.  
  
"No, stay here. I have a feeling I'll be needing you."  
  
Warrick and Catherine stood outside the door of a small, run-down apartment. Catherine held down the doorbell's button for a long time, letting the buzzing resound inside the apartment.  
  
"Looks like nobody's home," Catherine observed, "And it doesn't sound like this place is furnished, either."  
  
"Did Brass provide us with a warrant?" Warrick asked.  
  
"It's right here. Officer?"  
  
The two CSI's stepped out of the way as a police officer obliged in breaking open the door's simple lock. They walked into the apartment slowly, clanking around, careful not to miss anything as they donned gloves and set down their field kits. Catherine flicked the light switch.  
  
"Nothing," Catherine observed. "But we wouldn't see much more with the lights on, anyway," she added as she looked around the bare room.  
  
"You could say that again," said Warrick, opening doors to reveal a bedroom, bathroom, and small walk in closet, all empty.  
  
They spent an hour processing the scene-dusting walls, the kitchenette counters, the plumbing in the bathroom-and found nothing significant.  
  
"Bummer," Catherine said, taking off her gloves and putting away their equipment..  
  
Warrick squinted at the ground, then squatted so he could get a closer look at the pattern of the hardwood floor.  
  
"Hey, Cath, can I see your flashlight?"  
  
She handed it to him and he pointed it at the area he was interested in, a place where the floorboards didn't line up as neatly as the rest of the room. Picking up a flathead screwdriver, he pried the boards apart, revealing a gap where several letters had been hidden. He grinned.  
  
Catherine carefully re-gloved her hands, picked the letters up from between the floorboards, and unfolded the top one, looking at them scrupulously.  
  
"Dear Sophia,  
  
I love you and always have, but I can't love you the way you love me-at least the way you say you do. If you've been honest with me, then you'll agree the best thing for all of us is to"  
  
She trailed off, flipped the page over in her hand, then leafed through the remaining pieces of paper. "He didn't finish this letter. Or any of the other ones."  
  
"Yet he didn't throw them away. That says something."  
  
"My guess, he was going to come back for them. He took everything else with him, but left these. Wherever he is, he couldn't bring them with him. This place is still leased in his name. He's coming back."  
  
Nicky approached the small one-story house slowly, noting the flagstone walkway and carefully manicured lawn as he approached the front door. He knocked, not expecting anyone to be home. Mrs. Pedes answered the door, and he tried to hide his surprise as he greeted her.  
  
"Good morning, Mrs. Pedes," he said-it was the truth, it was nearly 4 am. "I'm sorry if I woke you."  
  
"Oh no, sir," she replied. "Who could sleep at a time like this?"  
  
"I know I certainly couldn't," he responded, smiling ruefully. "I hope you're holding together well, despite the circumstances." He carefully avoided mentioning the interrogation room. He took a breath, then continued, "I was wondering id I could take a look around your house-your daughters room especially, her belongings. Just in case anything can help us with out investigation."  
  
"Certainly, Mr."  
  
"Stokes. Call me Nick."  
  
She let him in the house and showed him to Annie's room.  
  
"Can I get you anything, Mr. Stokes?"  
  
"Oh, I actually would appreciate a glass of." he paused, remembering something he didn't want to. "Water. If you don't mind."  
  
He shook his head at himself, at the same time wishing that Grissom was there.  
  
Grissom led the way to his office, and the two women trailed slightly behind in silence. When they got there, they settled themselves quietly, Grissom sitting behind his desk, Sara and Chris sitting in the two chairs in front of him. Chris could feel two analytical pairs of eyes on her, and as she realized that they were waiting for her to speak, she clammed up. It was Grissom who broke the silence. "Chris, what is it that you wanted to tell us?"  
  
"I." she stammered for a moment, then took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and continued. "I thought I should tell you that on several occasions I've filed with DFS regarding Annie. I mean-I filed reports of possible child neglect and abuse." Grissom cocked his head slightly, his full attention focused on this new information. Sara mirrored his expression.  
  
"I didn't think you'd know," Chris continued, "Because I didn't have enough evidence to support my claims. You know how that goes." She smiled grimly. Grissom and Sara nodded. They did know.  
  
"But I have this sort of-gut feeling-that I trust a lot in cases like this. Ever since. well, you see," she looked away as she felt her face turning red. "I was raped when I was 18. Gang raped, hotel on the strip." She bit her lip and glanced up again. "I've put it behind me now."  
  
Sara flinched in her seat at the word "rape." She always did, and it wasn't a big deal. Usually. She was always afraid that someone would discover her one weakness, but for some reason, she nearly panicked when Grissom was in the room. It seemed harder to hide from him, somehow, and all the more imperative that he not know, not think her any less of a CSI. He was too busy listening to Chris' account to be noticing her. She heard him mumble an "I'm sorry," then Chris shrug and continue.  
  
"Ever since then, I've tried to protect everyone. That's why I work with kids, I guess. So they won't end up-like me."  
  
Grissom nodded. "A natural coping mechanism."  
  
" I know that Annie's parents have had arguments over her in the past. I don't know what they were about. But I remember Annie coming to school some days distraught and full of guilt. She'd have bruises and scrapes sometimes, but she has a weak immune system. So nobody could prove how she got them." She paused and thought for a moment. "I guess that's all I have to say, really."  
  
"Thanks for the information," Grissom said, shaking her hand.  
  
Sara took a deep breath, glad that the conversation was over. She shook hands with Chris as well. After the younger woman had left, Sara turned towards Grissom.  
  
"Care to join me-" he began. Sara cut him off.  
  
"The crime scene?" Sara asked hopefully. Grissom nodded. She grinned.  
  
"Just call Nick and tell him to process the house alone," she reminded Grissom.  
  
"I wouldn't have forgotten," Grissom replied defensively, though it was obvious from his expression that he already had. 


End file.
